


Reassurance requested, Reaction required

by nimrod262



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: BSAA, BSAA NAB, Fluff and Angst, Kenneth Cole’s Reaction, M/M, Nivanfield, Reaction Cologne, Short One Shot, some strong language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27556333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262
Summary: A Nivanfiled one-shot, set in my usual AU.  It’s late 2021, the BSAA NAB is ending and Chris worries that he hasn’t done enough. So what do you do when your life partner is about to crash and burn with another self-induced crisis? If you’re Piers Nivans and your partner is Chris Redfield, you solve it with a mix of cool, clinical logic, laughter inducing tasking, and the promise of the best sex imaginable! More Nivanfield angst, fluff and feels. Oh, and a dash of topicality - kinda’.  Read on to find out what.
Relationships: Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Reassurance requested, Reaction required

Midwinter, 2021: It’s coming to the end of Joe Biden’s first year in office, but a certain ex-president’s legacy lives on.

Both Chris Redfield and Piers Nivans have worked tirelessly during the last twelve months to ensure the peremptory disbandment of the North American Branch of the BSAA in 2022 is as painless as possible for the men and women who have worked in it. Even so, Chris remains plagued by self-doubt over his role in the closure. Has he done enough for his ‘military family’? Could he still do more? He seeks reassurance from the only person who can give it. His partner, Piers Nivans.

Piers’ response is classic Nivanfield. True love will conquer all, though it may require a whole bottle of Chris’ Reaction cologne this time …

In just a few weeks, at the start of the New Year, the North American Branch of the BSAA would cease to exist. A grim casualty of the war against Bioterrorism. Not defeated in some heroic struggle against a monstrous BOW, nor overwhelmed by hordes of zombies. But a victim of the peace that had ensued after countless earlier struggles. A peace bought in the blood and tears of many, and yet tweeted away by one. In the New Year, the politicians would keep their election commitments, the accountants their cost savings, and the corporate pharmaceuticals their increased profits.

At the Deuce of Hearts, a hard, early morning frost gripped the sturdy, four-square house and the surrounding woods. Inside, a hard fear now gripped the heart of Chris Redfield, Operations Director of an organization that was now defunct. A fear that had crept up on him, like the winter outside had crept up on autumn. Step by step, innocuous at first. So innocuous, you didn’t even notice. Until it was too late. And just as the autumn had receded, so had Chris’ confidence that he had done the right thing. By the BSAA NAB. By the fighting men and women who were his family. By their families, the wives, husbands and children who depended upon him to make the right decisions. By his partner, Piers Nivans, who, as the Director of the NAB, would take the ultimate responsibility for those decisions, whether he’d made them himself or not. Decisions he’d entrusted to Chris to make wisely, and correctly. And finally, by himself. He would bear his own mistakes, he always had, but the others surely deserved better.

Once, long ago, when he was just a kid, it would have been his parents Chris turned to for reassurance. Warm, supportive advice from his ever comforting mother Susan. Sterner words of duty and responsibility from his more austere father, Christopher Senior. When they were both killed, in 1988, he used up all the warmth to raise Claire. That only left the austerity to guide him into manhood. Thus began his 'dark years’, when the only person he had to seek reassurance from was himself. And so he learnt to project a brash, almost reckless, self-confidence. It fooled everyone except perhaps Claire. Deep within, he began to doubt his every word, his every move. Bottling things up this way lead to authority issues, aggression, and, eventually, to his PTSD and PTA.

Only when Piers Nivans joined Alpha Team, and became his right-hand, did he find someone to whom he could unburden himself. And that only grudgingly at first, so self-reliant had he become. However, as their bond grew and later blossomed into love post-Lanshiang, the warmth slowly returned to Chris’ life, and with it a guiding light that banished the dark years to the shadowy corners of his mind. They never completely went away of course. That’s the trouble with memories that are seared into your soul, cut into your very skin. Every time you look into a mirror, they look back at you, ready to reassert themselves. But Piers' love and guidance had made them bearable, made him stronger as a man. Even so, sometimes, as he tossed and turned in restless sleep, the memories and lack of inner confidence returned to haunt him. He’d done it before, and he would do it again later, when contemplating retirement.

Now was one of those times. Had he decided wisely and correctly over the last twelve months? Or foolishly and arrogantly? Once again Chris found himself plagued by self-doubt. He desperately needed reassuring. There was only one person who could provide that. The young man who lay asleep beside him, his true love, Piers Nivans.

****************************

Chris Redfield usually slept completely naked. He might, in particularly harsh weather, wear shorts and a tee. But all he ever really needed was Piers held in his embrace, or, occasionally, draped around him.

Piers Nivans, on the other hand, preferred not to sleep in the nude. He’d always felt the cold. Of course he now had his own heat-generating bear for warmth most nights. Even so, the standards taught to him by his mother when he was a child, the same standards reinforced in him by West Point when he became a man, were not things to be shaken off lightly. True, he no longer wore pajamas in bed, but only because he had found something far more suitable … Chris’ cast offs. An old, loose fitting tee, a pair of spacious shorts. They kept him warm and, at the same time, allowed ample room for Chris’s large, roaming hands. And right now, one of those hands seemed to be requesting access.

Chris was lying on his left side, his left arm slipped under Piers’ back, supporting his lighter partner. Chris’ head, beaded by a night sweat, rested close-in under Piers’ right shoulder. This left his right hand free to touch, to hold, or to explore Piers’ body. As a general rule, the hand would head south at the border, that zone between the frayed hem of the tee and the baggy waistband of the shorts. Piers waited in eager anticipation, his eyes closed, feigning deep sleep. Chris loved to surprise Piers, and Piers lived to make Chris happy. And surprise him Chris did.

The large, combat worn right-hand, every nick and scar a testament to its fighting past, seemed to hesitate for a few moments, as if unsure which direction to take. And when it did move again it headed not south, as Piers had assumed it would, but due north!

Piers resisted the urge to 'wake up’, or indeed make any sound or movement. He would let this unexpected departure from normality play out for a while longer. It might be nothing, merely a change of routine. Or it might be something far more significant. But in his heart, Piers knew it was the latter. Chris had, on rare occasions, done this before. And only when he was deeply troubled.

Piers controlled his breathing, keeping it regular as the rough-hewn hand continued upwards, hesitantly, nervously, betraying its owner’s emotions. It only stopped when it eventually reached Piers’ left breast. The big calloused thumb anchored down in the hollow over Piers’ breast bone, whilst the thick fingers unfurled and spread over and around the curved pectoral muscle and nipple. Chris wriggled down a bit, so he could more easily lay his head over Piers’ right breast, and then he sighed. His big, muscular body shuddered, and Piers felt the warm, careworn hand tighten its grip on his chest, felt the dampness as Chris’ sweat soaked through his t-shirt.

“Ohh!” Chris let out a soft, low moan. Almost inaudible, for it was not meant to be heard. Except, of course, it was. Piers’ hearing was almost as legendary as his eyesight.

****************************

“Babe?” Piers responded gently, but already he was on the alert.

“Uh? S,sorry Ace, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. Are you Ok?”

“Yeah, um, I’m fine … Ahh!” another shudder.

“Chris?”

“It’s nothing … go back to sleep. I just wanted a … er, a cuddle.”

“Chris, don’t lie to me. I know you too well, I can read the signs. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing! Really … it’s just …” Chris lapsed into silence.

“Just what? Please? You know you can tell me.”

“It’s just … just … Oh Piers! Have I fucked-up big time?”

“Um, I don’t know, Babe. Could you be a little more specific?”

“This business with the NAB, winding it down. Have I got it right? There are redundancies, people’s careers lost, families without income …”

Piers began to marshal his response as he twisted round to cradle as much of Chris as he could in his own arms. “Hey, slow down and think for a moment. Look at the figures. We expected what? fifty percent redundancy? You’ve got that down to twenty-five percent, maybe even twenty. That tie in with the Air Wing and the US Marines for example. That was a master stroke. They needed VTOL and rotary wing pilots, we had them at the ready. Combat trained. And their support staff. The airlines didn’t want any of them, they’ve still got problems of their own right now post-Covid.”

“That was pure luck.”

“No it wasn’t! It was your idea, you pursued it with the Commandant General himself, one on one. Rank and seniority all transferred, pension rights too.”

“That still leaves twenty to twenty-five percent. What happens to them? I’ve let them down Piers! Our family. Their families.”

“You’ve got the furlough scheme almost in place. Early pensions available. You’ve done so much Chris. You don’t realize, you’ve been so immersed in it, you can’t see the wood for the trees.”

“I can’t?”

“No, you can take it from me. Who got us a two year extension in the first place? You did. From the former President himself.”

“A stay of execution more like! I sold my soul to the devil, giving him that dammed photo opportunity and agreeing with him he’d get a second term, on camera!”

“He, he!”

“I don’t see anything funny about it!”

“There is. The way he always thought _you_ were the Director of the NAB. I’m still not sure if he knew, or even cared, if he’d got it wrong. You were the action-man, the military hero he wanted beside him in the frame.”

“It should have been you.”

“No, I couldn’t have pulled it off like you did. I couldn’t have kept that toothy grin on my face. We’d have been shut down there and then.”

“My teeth were gritted.”

“Hmm, whatever. The important thing is it worked Babe. And you made it work. You gained us a breathing space. For re-training, for building up pension and health-care funds, for re-homing.”

“I should have got the decision reversed, last year. I’ve met President Biden, dined with him.”

“Babe, you know Washington doesn’t work like that. An incoming President doesn’t usually reverse the previous administration’s decisions.”

“He did, the last one!”

“The exception that proves the rule.”

“We left our partners in the lurch, Mexico, Canada …”

“Not your fault! They both took on more US personnel than we’d first expected. Why? Because you banged their silly heads together around the conference table. You, not me. Whilst I was dancing to the tune in Washington and New York, playing piggy in the middle with the President and the UN, you handled the face to face negotiations. You had the presence, commanded their respect. You created order out of chaos.”

“I strong armed them!”

“And very nice arms they are too.”

“Ha!”

“That’s better, you’re laughing now. See? Things are not so bad after all, are they?”

“I don’t know. I won’t stop Piers, not until they’re all settled. Including our own boys.”

“Well, Andy’s gonna’ work here with us, so he’s settled. Ben’s already joined the US Army, Carl and Raul are going to Mexico, Rick’s heading north to Canada, so they’re settled. And Finn and Danny are carrying on their medical work here, setting up the Medical Rehabilitation Center under the foundation that _you_ set up. Note the emphasis there. You, not me! So they’re settled too. I think that’s everyone.”

“You missed one out Piers. You might be the last, but you’re by no means the least. I need to know your future’s as secure as theirs.”

“Oh Bear! How can it not be with you looking out for me? Besides, I already have a lifetime job.”

“You do? What?”

“Looking after you silly!”

“Harrumph!”

“Ok then, how 'bout we look after each other? The two of us. We’re good at that. Sword and Shield, remember?”

“I suppose so.” Chris said grudgingly.

“You _know_ so. Come on. Deal?”

“Alright.”

“That’s better.”

“Thanks Piers.”

“What for?”

“Reassuring me. You always know what to say.”

“Well, I’ve had the practice!”

“Oi!”

“Joke Babe.”

“Uh? Oh, yeah, sorry.”

“You still feeling unsettled?”

“Yeah, a bit, sorry.”

“No need to apologize. What you require is some instant TLC, that’s all.”

“I do?”

“Of course! Though you might need a little prep beforehand …”

“Preparation, me!” Chris huffed.

“Calm down Bear! I want to do this properly, give you one hundred percent of my attention.”

“You always do. I’ve never known anyone as selfless as you.”

“You’re worth it! He, he!”

“Um, Ok then. What do I have to do?”

Piers bent his head down and whispered in Chris’ ear.

“What! _All_ over?” Chris was rather taken aback.

Piers whispered again.

“Alright Ace, if you say so …” Chris got out of the bed and headed for the wet room. “… I hope there’s enough …”

Piers grinned. “So do I.” he called out to the retreating, and tantalizingly naked, body.

****************************

He heard Chris whistling as he showered, that was a good sign. Giving him a specific task to carry out had done the trick; taking his mind off his earlier fears. At least temporarily. It was Piers’ intention that they would soon be forgotten. If not completely, then at least put into context and seen in proportion.

The shower stopped. Chris would now be toweling himself off, so Piers took the opportunity to divest himself of his sleepwear. A short while later, he heard the first faint hiss, and corresponding grunt of pleasure. Piers knew Chris would work down his body methodically, head to toe. Now a long burst, that would be his chest. Now two short ones, his armpits. A couple of tentative puffs, stomach? Then a more prolonged burst. Piers smiled. So far, so …

“Arghhh!!”

Piers sat bolt upright in the bed. “Arghhh?” he echoed worriedly.

“It stings!! Owww!!”

“Where?”

“W,where’d you think? There! M,my boys! Ahh, ahh, ahh!”

“I didn’t mean you do do it _there_!”

“You said all over … OMG! Ouch, ouch!”

“Quick, wash it off!”

“Aghhh …” Piers heard the faucet run, followed by a sigh of relief. “… Aahhh, that’s better!”

“You Ok now Bear?”

“Gah, just! The things I do for you Piers Nivans. God that hurt!”

“Aww, my poor baby. Come back to bed now.”

“I’ll give you baby!”

“Oh, that’s an idea, bring the talc.”

“What?”

“Um, no, wait, on second thoughts …”

“Make your mind up!”

“Leave the talc. It makes me sneeze. Just finish off spraying your legs and feet with cologne, then come here.”

“It won’t sting?”

“Not if you keep it below your knees.”

“Now you tell me!”

“I didn’t think you’d spray Kenneth Cole’s Reaction on your …”

“You said _all_ over. I always do what you tell me.”

“I wish!”

“Oi!”

“Ok, but surely common sense tells you … Oh, no, sorry, I was forgetting … He, he, he!”

“Grrr, just you wait Nivans!”

****************************

Chris stomped back into their bedroom. Piers grinned appreciatively.

“Wow, look at you! All pink and moist. You scrub up pretty well.”

“Parts of me are now pinker than others, no thanks to you.”

“I’m not the hand that rocks the cradle.”

“Huh? What the hell does that mean?”

“Um, I’m not sure. Perhaps I was still thinking about the talc …”

“Hey, I thought this was meant to be about me? I’m the one who needs attention here, in case you’d forgotten.”

“And that’s just what you’re going to get.” Piers smiled as he patted the bed next to him. “C'mon Big Boy!”

Chris looked down between his legs. “Big Red more like, it still stings!”

“By the time I’ve finished with you, you’ll be laughing about it.”

“Not funny!”

“Yes it is.”

“Hmm, well, it is a bit I suppose … Ha, ha, ha!”

Chris got back into the bed. “So, what’s your plan Doctor?”

“We’re going to banish the blues, lay our fears to rest, and feel good about ourselves.”

“And how are _we_ going to do that?”

“Leave it all to me Babe. All you’ve got to do is lie there and make the appropriate noises as and when.”

“As and when what?”

Piers ducked his head under the sheet. The smell of Chris’ cologne, now warmed and activated by the heat of his body, assailed Piers nostrils. For an instant, he was transported back to the very first time he’d met Chris, albeit unknowingly. The handsome man sat in the next airplane seat, giving off such an incredibly sexy smell. Citrus, apple, musk. And then, years later, in Edonia, when that same fragrance was a very real link to his missing Captain. Piers swallowed his own bad memories. Chris was right, this was about him. His full lips brushed against Chris’ scented skin.

“As and when I do this, for example …”

“Ahh, Piers!” Chris arched his back in pleasure.

“… or this …”

“Uff, sweet Jesus!”

“… Later on, I might try this …”

“Oh my God Ace! Where’d you learn to do that?”

Piers head popped up from between Chris’ legs. “I had an inspirational teacher. A man who always put others above and before himself. Who never asked for a favor. Who would rather suffer himself, than let others down …”

“Who?”

“My father.”

“Oh … Say what!”

“It’s you, you dope!”

“Really?”

Piers nodded. “Uh-huh. Now just lie still and let me do my job.”

“Thank you Piers, gah!” Chris sobbed.

“Are you crying?”

“No … sniff. I just wanted to say it, whilst I could.”

“Hey, come here you.” Piers wriggled up alongside his partner. “It’s Sunday, our one day off a week. I’m not going anywhere for the next few hours, and neither are you.” Piers breathed in deeply. “Not until the last whiff of Reaction has gone and you are lying peacefully in my arms, sound asleep, dreaming sweet dreams, proud of what you’ve achieved.

"You’re gonna’ do all that? For me?”

“Just watch me! You wanted reassurance, this is my way of giving it.”

“I love you, Piers Nivans.”

“And I love you Christopher Redfield. I always have, and I always will.”


End file.
